


The Death of Sherlock Holmes

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, F/M, Humor, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: This is the story of how Sherlock Holmes died.*another reader told me this made her cry





	The Death of Sherlock Holmes

  


[ ](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)

  


"Are we there yet?” Sherlock demanded as he barged into the cockpit of the small private jet. The pilot jumped and the plane lurched downwards several meters, causing all the occupants in it to scream. The pilot quickly recovered and put the plane on autopilot. He turned around, his face flushed with rage. 

“Mr. Holmes, get out of here, _now!_ ” A pair of hands clamped down on Sherlock’s biceps and dragged him out of the cockpit. There was a loud _click!,_ and the door was locked. 

John flung Sherlock into his seat. “What do you think you are _doing?_ ” he raised his hands up in frustrated fists. “We are thirty-nine thousand feet in the air and you almost made us nose dive three bloody times!” 

Sherlock crossed one long leg over the other. “I’m simply keeping track of our progress.” 

John threw himself into the seat next to Sherlock. “Yeah, well you can do that in probably a dozen different ways other than scaring our pilot and making us all plummet to our death.” he slid down the seat and let out a long sigh. “This is absolutely insane.” He looked at Sherlock. 

The detective had gone quiet, his energy seeming to have been spent on his outburst. His fingertips touched as he watched the clouds go by. “I just want to find her. I want to protect her and Jade. What kind of husband and father am I if I can’t keep them safe?” His voice was flat and the inner turmoil was showing in his blue eyes. 

”Why don’t you try calling her again?” 

Sherlock closed his eyes. “She’s with Moriarty. I’m afraid that might anger him, or perhaps she’s hiding from him. The ringtone would give her away.” 

Sherlock’s concern for you gripped John’s heart. Even under such dangerous circumstances he was able to put your needs before his own and… 

still care about you after you cheated on him. 

John was having his own struggles coming to terms with your infidelity. You and Sherlock were his best friends and he loved you both dearly, so for you to cheat on Sherlock was like a double betrayal. He had expected so much more from you, and at the same time he had a front row seat to Sherlock’s heartbreak. 

But as your friend, shouldn’t he let you explain yourself? Shouldn’t he be someone you can turn to? 

The affair was not treating John Watson very well. 

Sherlock had since rested his head against the seat in front of him. “I just love them so much.” 

”I know.” 

Sherlock’s eyes flicked to John. “How very insightful, John. I feel very consoled.” 

John clapped his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. “You sound better already.” 

~*~ 

”These are a lot more fun when they actually move,” you told Jade as you held her on the carousel horse. Its blue paint was chipped and dirt covered the gold filigree. The colors of the animal had faded from sitting in the hot sun for years, making it look sickly. Its pupils were nearly gone, giving it a pair of bulging white eyes. You really didn’t like the horse. 

Moriarty kept checking his watch. He had become increasingly agitated in the last half hour. The day had been interesting, if anything. Luckily, the rain had stopped and you were able to navigate every inch of the park, each section holding its dark secrets. The Logger’s Leap flume ride was nothing but a tube of dark water, the kind that looked like a hoard of monsters would pull you under if you just dipped a toe in. The Huss Troika ride had lost its swings and only stood as a bleached green, cratered orb that looked so alien and out of place. It gave you the creeps. 

The physical signs of death and decay amused Moriarty greatly and he lead you through the park with nothing but enthusiasm, making the atmosphere even more disturbing. The Loudoun Castle Theme Park was an eerily good representation of James Moriarty; whimsical to the casual eye, but a monstrosity to those who took a second look. 

Moriarty let out an annoyed growl. “I’m sorry this is taking so long, sweetheart. It seems I might have overestimated someone’s capabilities.” He had his arms wrapped around you and while you welcomed the warmth, the company was less to be desired. However, you were just too tired to try and push him off you, so you let him be. 

You brought Jade to your chest and sighed. You were exhausted and wanted to go someplace with heat. Your interest in the theme park had officially faded. You leaned your head back and looked up. “Can we please leave?” 

Moriarty was no longer looking at you. His face was simply glowing in fiendish delight. He spun you around. “We are not going to leave here for quite a while, sweetheart. The fun has just begun.” He pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Pulling back only slightly, he put a hand to your cheek. His eyes as wide as the carousel horse’s, he said, “You will remember this for a long time.” 

~*~ 

”What is this place?” John asked as they approached the entrance to the theme park. 

Sherlock flipped his collar up and tightened his scarf. There was a nasty chill in the air that felt rather sinister. “This was the Loudoun Castle Theme Park. It was put up in 2006. They had to close it in 2010 because it was ‘no longer economically viable.’ I personally believe that it was due to the death of an 18 year old boy who was working on one of the rollercoasters.” 

John’s eyes widened. “Blimey. What happened?” 

Sherlock was slow to reply, “He was pushing a rollercoaster that got stuck and it suddenly turned on. It flung him off and he fell about 24 meters.” Sherlock took a deep breath. “Obviously people don’t want to bring their children to a park where another child died. I certainly wouldn’t.” 

”Well, I can see why Moriarty would find this interesting. But I still don’t understand why we had to schlep to another country.” 

”That is something we are about to find out.” 

The two men walked into the park and Sherlock stopped. Taking advantage of his tall stature, he squinted his eyes and scanned the park. They finally landed on the carousal. “Moriarty,” he said lowly, studying the man in the suit coat. He currently had his back to them, blocking whatever he was doing. 

”Jesus, it’s cold out. What’s he doing without a blazer?” John tilted his head. “What is he doing in general?” 

Sherlock didn’t answer; Moriarty had turned and was staring at him with such intensity that he felt like he was on fire. Sherlock had forgotten those piercing eyes. He had forgotten that evil smirk. He had forgotten that the devil himself walked this earth. Moriarty turned away and ducked his head. Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. Moriarty’s body language was animated and suspicious. 

John voiced his thoughts. “It looks like he’s up to something.” 

”There’s only one way to find out.” Sherlock started forward, John at his side. As they got closer, they could hear that Moriarty was clearly talking to someone. Sherlock’s heart began to pound with realization. Where were you? 

”I’d stop walking, Sherlock,” Moriarty said, his dark eyes trained on him. 

Sherlock halted, about a hundred feet from Moriarty. “And why is that?” he asked coolly. 

”Because I have something you like and if you get any closer I might break it.” 

Sherlock’s throat went dry and blood rushed to his ears. He couldn’t hear and he couldn’t talk. His chest tightened, crushing his lungs so that he couldn’t breathe. Sherlock Holmes’ hands were trembling because James Moriarty had you in a chokehold, a long, sharp blade lightly kissing your throat. Your eyes were widened you looked at him in desperation. 

’Help me,’ they begged. 

Sherlock clenched his fists. You were going to get out of this alive, even if it left him behind as a corpse. 

”You’ve never seemed to be the type to get your hands dirty, Moriarty.” He could use his gun, but by the time he got it out Moriarty would have slit your throat. 

Moriarty gave him a lazy smile. “It’s as they say, ‘there’s a first time for everything.’” 

”Then use that philosophy and let her go.” 

Moriarty shook his head in disappointment. “Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock,” he sighed, “you know I can’t just let her go.” 

Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back. “This seems like a rather cliché, villain vs. hero faceoff. I expected quite more from you.” Sherlock began to slowly pace. 

”You fancy yourself as a hero, Sherlock?” Moriarty’s face was dead and his voice was ice cold, but somehow his eyes were burning hellfire. 

”I’m simply mirroring the role you’ve placed me in.” 

”Aw,” Moriarty frowned, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You got this far. How’d you like all of the dead girls? I really brainstormed on that one. Remember, it’s the thought that counts." He waved the knife in the air, causing Sherlock, John, and you to gasp. “It really had some sentimental value.” Moriarty tilted his head and shrugged. “You’re welcome.” 

A cold breeze pierced the air, catching Sherlock’s coattails. He watched as your hair blew in the wind. Even though you were terrified, you still looked so beautiful. His heart lurched. 

”So you broke me. Now you kill me. Let her go,” Sherlock's voice was firm and strong. 

Moriarty winced and shook his head. “This is the part when things get a little _weird,_ Sherlock.” 

Sherlock saw your whole body stiffen and your eyes flew open. You were murmuring something, but he was too far away to read your lips. 

”Now, we can all agree that I am an absolute mastermind, but I am a _tad_ ashamed to say that there was a little unpredictable hiccup in my plan,” he gave Sherlock a crooked smile, “but it was a very _enjoyable_ hiccup.” 

Sherlock leaned forward, watching as you became more frazzled, your mouth moving so fast that it was almost a blur. He was bewildered; you had been held at knife point for the last ten minutes and only now were you suddenly looking absolutely terrified. You were pleading. 

”Do you remember that day when I paid you a visit and made out with this fine little lady right here?” He gave you a squeeze. 

Sherlock grit his teeth, but refused to be baited. “As I recall, you felt the need to bring body guards because you were too insecure to come by yourself. Afraid of a detective, incredibly short friend, and wife?” Sherlock snorted. “I’m sure the baby gave you the willies.” 

Moriarty’s eyebrow’s shot up and his mouth dropped into an ‘o.’ “Now that was a burn! Sherlock Holmes, I am _impressed._ But I do have to move on for time’s sake.” 

To Sherlock’s astonishment, Moriarty dropped the knife. He immediately started forward, but Moriarty held up a hand. 

“I don’t do dirty work but I can still break a neck.” The hand that had held the knife slid around your waist, leaving you entwined in his arms. 

Sherlock did not like what he was seeing and he began to grow incredibly anxious. 

”Well, I actually tried to stop kissing her while you were in the room, but Mrs. Sherlock Holmes just wasn’t having it. Who am I to break a woman’s heart?” Moriarty sighed and rested his chin on your shoulder. His eyes flicked to the sky and he shrugged. “It must be the gentleman in me.” He looked back down at Sherlock. 

Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat and his heart stopped. 

”You look a little confused.” Moriarty pinched you cheeks. “Your sweetheart over here just wouldn’t leave poor James Moriarty alone. So I had you and your pet leave so that she could use me and abuse me.” He scrunched his nose. “We fucked, Sherlock. In your bed.” 

”You’re lying,” Sherlock immediately retorted. 

Moriarty sighed in understanding. “It’s perfectly logical that you wouldn’t believe me. Why don’t you ask her?" 

Sherlock looked at you and his world collapsed. Big, fat tears were rolling down your face and your lip was trembling. 

”Sherlock, I’m-I’m so sorry…” you stuttered, your voice thick. “It-it j-just happened…” 

Moriarty gave a smug smirk. “You didn’t seem that sorry when we had sex in the alley the next day,” he looked over at Sherlock, whose face had gone blank, “or when you kissed me about four hours ago and canoodled with me the whole plane ride here.” He brushed your tears away and kissed your cheek. 

The breath was stolen from Sherlock’s body and his cheeks were wet. The circuits in his brain blew out and everything that was whole shattered. Where was once love remained a vast pit of emptiness. Everything he had put into you, love, affection, understanding…it had been for nothing. He had done his very best for you; Sherlock Holmes, the man without a heart, had grown one. He had trusted you enough to hold it and you tore it to pieces. He had been trying so hard to protect you… 

”Oh, you seem to be taking this pretty hard, Sherlock.” Moriarty had since rested his chin on your head, rocking you back and forth. “Oh!” Moriarty looked down and his mouth popped open. “I almost forgot about this little nugget!” 

Sherlock noticed that Jade was sitting on the ground next to Moriarty, gazing up at you with anxiety. 

“Do you know why I dragged you all the way here Sherlock?” Moriarty’s face turned to stone. “A child died here, and because of that, everything around it died.” Moriarty’s eyes narrowed. “It’s quite inspiring, really. I thought it would only be appropriate to carry out our final act on this stage.” He looked at Jade and smirked. 

” _NO!_ ” you and Sherlock shouted, but it was fruitless. Sherlock got one last glance of Jade’s beautiful blue eyes - his own eyes, before Moriarty stomped on her soft head. 

Sherlock’s knees gave out and he fell into the mud before he started to scramble over to his daughter. By the time he got there, he was covered in filth. Before him was what was left of this baby girl. Hunks of her blood mixed with brain matter lay in mud. Shards of skull stuck out everywhere, delicate flesh and whisps of her soft hair still clinging to the bones. 

”She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay,” Sherlock kept assuring you, sobs racking through his body. The walls that had held him up crumbled, and salty drops fell onto his coat. It was raw, everything was raw. The muscles of his chin were trembling like a child's, like his child. It ripped through his bones, his muscles, and his guts. Moment by moment it got worse. For the moment, he didn't care what you did and pulled you to him. You had fallen into the mud on your hands and knees. You had it in your hair, your face, and all over your clothes. Tears were leaving clean streaks down your cheeks. You buried your face into Sherlock's chest, your eyelashes glistening. You couldn't breath or form coherent thoughts. 

You sat, two grieving parents holding each other. 

You both turned when you heard a large gag. 

”God, get a grip,” Moriarty drawled. 

He kneeled down and took your chin. He looked into your eyes for what felt like years. He smiled. He did it. You had finally submitted. 

“I truly enjoyed our time together.” He looked over at Jade’s body. “Sorry ‘bout the kid.” He pushed your face away and walked over to Sherlock. He opened his arms. “As for the great Sherlock Holmes…” he pressed his foot to Sherlock’s cheek, “he lies dead and broken.” Not having any will to fight back, Sherlock let Moriarty press his face into the mud. 

”And John Watson,” Moriarty sang, turning around to face the horrified army doctor, “have fun cleaning up after this.” The red dot that had silently been trained on John Watson’s head disappeared. Moriarty put his hands in his pockets and left the park whistling a disco tune because disco was not dead. 

But Sherlock Holmes was. 

**Author's Note:**

> This arc is over. We just have a follow up chapter and then we're back. I am amazed I was able to see a plot all the way through. If you want to see Moriarty again some time in the future, let me know because he is alive and kicking in my universe. We will have more plots in between our usual vignettes if I think of them. They won't be so depressing.
> 
> I hope I did a good job.


End file.
